Touring

Once upon a time, when newspapers were rich and staffs were fat, photographers would be assigned to do something called “touring.” It meant searching for serendipitous photos for the next day’s paper – something newsy, something funny, something out of the ordinary, or something that just told readers what was happening in the world around them. Photographers had favourite haunts for this exercise – one spent so much time in Stanley Park that he published a book of his photos from it. 

Freed as I am from the project that has limited my ramblings for the last while, I assigned myself today to go touring – by foot of course. My goal was to find something of interest, akin to the pictures that photographers would turn in at the end of a shift. Here’s how it went, concluding with the photo I would have submitted had I been an old-time photographer:

Heading south toward the Southlands area -- land of horses, rural scenes and Thomas Hobbs' fine nursery -- I came across this extraordinarily huge outdoor display. Air-filled Christmas characters the size of laneway houses. 

Objects like these say something -- I'm not sure what -- about the state of Christmas decor these days. In Vancouver at least, the trend seems to be toward huge-ness: Air-filled characters are getting bigger, and I've noticed outdoor tree ornaments the size of basketballs. 

What I come to Southlands for: greenery lined streets, this one reminiscent of an English lane.

Across the path from the river are a line of newly built, obviously expensive houses. I am grateful they are not huge and that the landscapers made some effort to help them blend in with nature. However, I'll be Home for Christmas was blaring out of one of them. 

The view from the path along the river; this is what the houses above would look out on. 

The path is a favourite for the many horseback riders in the area. 

A good place to come for a spot of peace and serenity. Pleasant scenes so far, but not newspaper-worthy.

A short walk back brings you to Thomas Hobbs' sophisticated, always beautiful nursery. It was here I expected to find something unusual to complete my mission. Rows of poinsettias are lovely, but wouldn't make the newspaper.

Now these are different -- I think the mouths are fountains. But in these sensitive times, I wouldn't touch them with a 10-foot pole. 

I think this is a birdhouse, but I suspect the squirrels or worse would take up residence pretty quickly.

Hobbs always has beautiful displays of orchids. Lovely, but not different.

Old-fashioned version of Santa, combined with other antique objects and greenery. 

And outside, the primulas are waiting to brighten somebody's doorway.

The combination of the chair, the terra cotta pots and the blooming hellebore makes this a pleasant scene.

There are two of these very large, very fierce creatures awaiting someone with lots of space -- and money. 

Back inside, this cushion reminded me of a young ex-colleague who eyed me suspiciously one day when I talked about my cat. "How many cats do you have?" he asked. When I said "one," his relief was obvious. His older colleague was not a crazy cat-hoarder lady.

Now what's this? Ceramic cats and rabbits in straw-like bedding, protected behind glass. They look a bit unusual.

The explanation is fascinating. The cats are special -- ultra-expensive -- early 20th-century antiques from Normandy, France, "traditionally used on farmyard roofs to scare away rats." The arching cats are $1,200 apiece; the stretching ones $800, and the big rabbit -- a garden ornament and not as old -- is $800.

That not-so-valuable $800 rabbit. 

This cat doesn't appear to be either arching or stretching, so we don't know his price-tag.

But look at what he's observing: a very fierce blue cat, who is yes, arching for $1,200!

The winner: If I was heading back to the office with a photo, I would choose this one for his fierce look, his high price-tag and his unusual occupation -- sitting on a French farmyard roof scaring off rats. Thank you, Thomas Hobbs!